I remember. Before It you were happy and perfectly content with life. You may have had the occasional hurt, but all people do. But before, your smiles were bigger, your laughs were louder, your friends were everywhere. I’m not sure there was a single person that you didn’t connect with or even a single room that you could walk into without it instantly turning brighter.

You were the center of attention not because you craved it, but because everyone enjoyed your constant positive presence. Carefree was practically your middle name. You were vivacious, full of life, and an ever-present joy. Friendships and relationships came easily with others – until it didn’t.

After It, you’re quiet, you overthink, you’re sure to keep everything contained. Nothing can be out of place. You can never act out of line. What will happen when you draw attention? During this, you would have faced consequences. After It, not only can you still feel the consequences to your core, but you’re paranoid everyone will know what happens. No one can know. Do you smile still? You can’t remember. If you do, is it genuine? You don’t know.

Repercussions from the past resurface from the depths of your head that you try to push It down to. You feel the sting of words, of hands. The mere mention of It brings a nauseating sickness and a pain you know all too well. It’s words echo in your ears and reverberate through your mind.

Did I deserve this? Is it me? Why me, what did I do? You shove the thoughts down again, keep the walls up and yourself hidden. Relationships are so much harder now. They shouldn’t be this hard, right? They were once easy. Everything was easy. Why this?

I know. I know there was a transition. I can see how you stand in the corners of the room, just close enough for your silhouette to be visible but not close enough for anyone to see the details of who you are. I watched as you were torn from friendships and relationships, causing the process to begin for your light to slowly die out.

I saw how you began wearing greys long sleeves instead of the bright red V-neck that you always looked so vibrant in.

I noticed the forced smiles while engaged with someone quickly disappear as soon as they turned away.

I caught glimpses of marks dotting your skin.

I witnessed the utter destruction of your brilliance and stripping of your dignity.

I saw who you turned into a stranger even you didn’t recognize – like an old picture of yourself completely out of focus. I know you catch yourself splitting your life into two specific parts – Before It and After It.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about that, too - who you were before It and what It made you. I know you’re probably sweating at the thought of someone knowing, but sweetie, I know.

And I’m sorry.

My darling, let me assure you. This was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. The only thing you did wrong was trying to fix a person who could not be helped and hurting yourself in the process. It’s not your fault for ignoring signs you weren’t even aware you should have been looking for.

You are not the things It yelled at you when they thought you were flirting with the host.

You did not deserve the mind games and the manipulation you endured for so long.

You were not the cause of unpleasant memories and unreasonable arguments.

You could not have stopped the isolation from others It provided. You did not deserve a thing that was thrown your way.

You were not wrong like they tried to convince you.

You do not need to stumble over your words anymore because you’re worried you could say the wrong thing to get you in trouble with It.

You don’t have to guard your every move or pretend like It didn’t happen to save yourself the pain of memories.

The healing is hard and it’s long. I know you feel like there couldn’t be anyone on Earth who knows what you went through or would probably believe the stories you had to share. I know you feel like there could never be a soul you could trust to light even the darkest corners of your heart and soul without telling others what they discovered.

The hurt is consistent, the reminders are everywhere, the memories of the pain are so ingrained that you can still feel every bit of those moments. I know you think no one notices, or that no one knows.

But I know. I noticed.

I care. You should have never had to be there. For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry you were. And what’s more, I’m here to listen. Talking about it, acknowledging it, and advocating against it brings you a power you didn’t know you could possess and the feeling of a burden lifted off your shoulders.

Your monster was real, so admitting that doesn’t make you crazy. Anyways, at this point, I’m sure you’re wondering how I know – how I can tell what you’ve gone through from and how do I have such confidence in the existence of that monster, It. Want to know how?

I’ve seen It, too.